#i still don't have money to have this made

[buttercuparry]

This is a video I took from Bisan's page because I feel like this is important. Bisan, here talks about the second winter of this genocide and some of the important points are:

the rains have caused the sea level to rise and it has flooded the tents which were set up on the beach.

speaking of tents themselves- they do not preserve heat. It is not made to preserve heat and yet gazans have had to live in these shelters for over a year

last November there still were shops; there were means of production, however little, to produce clothes, coats, and blankets that could keep people from freezing...right now there is nothing as every inch of the Gaza Strip has been carpet bombed.

Israel has blocked life sustaining supplies and fuel like coal and wood have started to run out: it is becoming impossible for people keep warm.

I don't have much to say anymore and can only request you to keep your eyes on Gaza. Gazans are struggling to survive and right now every little donation can go a long way into sustaining life. My friend, Siraj Abudayeh ( @siraj2024 ) has been struggling too and while his tent was not washed away in the waves, it did drown because of the destruction of sewage wells. He hopes that if not all, he can at least help some of the most vulnerable members of his family by continuing to rent a shelter. However since his old campaign was abruptly shut down by gofundme, he lost a lot of money and right now he can no longer afford the shelter.

So please this is a request to donate to Siraj. If you have received a refund, please consider a redonation. If it is not possible to donate then please boost. Sharing the fundraiser goes a long way.

[applecath]

Okay, op. That man "hated" and made fun of women's clothing is not an argument against it being a tool of the patriarchy.

Let me explain why.

Men have been ridiculing women's fashion for a very very long time. They do it now. They make fun of make up, they make fun of long nails, they make fun of new clothing trends.

I don't know if you noticed, but they (men) make fun of everything a woman does - and I would argue that in the case of fashion, it's the women they're making fun of, and not the styles themselves.

You can see that at the same time, the women who do not confirm to the fashion are made fun of as well. They "pretend to be a man", or are "ugly", or "dirty", or whatever else. It is a fine line every woman has to walk in order to not be made fun of - she either does something too much, or not enough. There is no golden standard in reality, because every man has his own opinion, the opinion that he sees as universal, and that he will express as such. Hence the praising and hating of feminity at the same time.

It is not an unusual concept of men to dunk on an activity they force women to do. Because men hate women, it's how patriarchy works.

(for other examples, think "women have to work in the kitchen to be a proper woman" and "being a housewife means you are stupid")

(or "moms are all unreasonable and dumb" and "every woman must have a child to realize her role in life")

It is true that often men don't directly enforce fashion on women, but it does not mean that they don't indirectly do it. The same way your mother might be the one pressuring you to wear makeup, other women could be pressuring a woman in the past to wear an uncomfortable and inconvenient garment.

Still, it is not a coincidence that only women engage in these extreme handicaping behaviour, it is not a coincidence that only they paint themselves, shape their bodies, wear heavy clothing, heavily decorate their hair. It is not a coincidence that only women make living their lives harder in order to look better, and to see why this happens we must look at the people who hold the power. Who has more money? Who can survive on his own? Whose opinion matters more socially? Who can make political decisions? Who writes the law? Who enforces the law?

It is easy to see that in the time of hoop-skirts, the same as now, men hold this power.

Did you know that women were actually arrested for defying female fashion and wearing trousers?

it’s hilarious to me when people call historical fashions that men hated oppressive

like in BuzzFeed’s Women Wear Hoop Skirts For A Day While Being Exaggeratedly Bad At Doing Everything In Them video, one woman comments that she’s being “oppressed by the patriarchy.” if you’ve read anything Victorian man ever said about hoop skirts, you know that’s pretty much the exact opposite of the truth

thing is, hoop skirts evolved as liberating garment for women. before them, to achieve roughly conical skirt fullness, they had to wear many layers of petticoats (some stiffened with horsehair braid or other kinds of cord). the cage crinoline made their outfits instantly lighter and easier to move in

it also enabled skirts to get waaaaay bigger. and, as you see in the late 1860s, 1870s, and mid-late 1880s, to take on even less natural shapes. we jokingly call bustles fake butts, but trust me- nobody saw them that way. it was just skirts doing weird, exciting Skirt Things that women had tons of fun with

men, obviously, loathed the whole affair

(1864)

(1850s. gods, if only crinolines were huge enough to keep men from getting too close)

(no date given, but also, this is 100% impossible)

(also undated, but the ruffles make me think 1850s)

it was also something that women of all social classes- maids and society ladies, enslaved women and free women of color -all wore at one point or another. interesting bit of unexpected equalization there

and when bustles came in, guess what? men hated those, too

(1880s)

(probably also 1880s? the ladies are being compared to beetles and snails. in case that was unclear)

(1870s, I think? the bustle itself looks early 1870s but the tight fit of the actual gown looks later)

hoops and bustles weren’t tools of the patriarchy. they were items 1 and 2 on the 19th century’s “Fashion Trends Women Love That Men Hate” lists, with bonus built-in personal space enforcement

[thatbitchery]

Personal finance is tied mostly to your systems as a person. You could make 6 figures a year and still be broke and in debt or you could make 20k a year and be on your way to financial freedom.I have finally achieved financial freedom, and no I do not make super much, depending on who you compare me to. Mostly it's my financial and personal habits that keep me going.

I do not consider fancy a marker of a good life, as a matter of fact I do not understand it. What do you mean a MEAL costs 1000 its never that serious please. I don't consider Givenchy to be any more elevated than what my tailor can make me for 100$. Fancy is not important to me so when I was building my one year emergency fund I did not consider fancy part of the budget. I do not try to purchase status.

And I can not stress this enough- taking risks with my money. Buying a vending machine is one of the best decisions I made this year. Buying a business, as risky as that was, turned out to be great. I have lost money, too. Like a lot. I bought stocks in a startup that crashed and lost a pretty little buck. I dipped into the VR business not too long ago and that tanked. It is not about making the right decisions- with money that is almost never possible. Its about taking risks.

My end goal is not a career its the money. Meaning? I have worked jobs odd and unclassy and not so fun. I have packaged fish at some point- hated it. I have worked as a cashier once. As the personal assistant to some pig that was always trying to get their hand up my skirt. I have done real estate. Currently doing event (wedding) Planning for my girl. I did forex, once. I have been paid to go as someone's date to some event. I am not picky with my jobs because the job is not the end goal, the money is. The goal is to retire by 30 and I will do whatever it takes to get up there. It's the getting paid part that matters the most to me.

Learning to leverage my skills and the situation plus to recognize the opportunities when they show up. My girl's last organizer canceled last minute and I offered to take it if she tops the fee up because I love her but not THAT much. In the process I have met so many people in this place and making connections in a new country will never be a bad idea. I have zero to none skills in event planning but all i hear is compliments (Pinterest the things I'd do for you) and I can add event planning to the options my future self has for careers especially given the profile of this one. A lady at church was divorced and man left her with a mortgage and a financial crisis (your daily reminder marrying rich isn't all that) and i drew up a contract to cover her mortgage and kid's education in exchange of a piece of her estate plus slowly easing my way into becoming her financial go to person and asset manager. A bargain, seriously, and I've passed it through enough lawyers to know my fancy little mortgage note will make me very very happy in a few years. Leveraging my mentorship skills to work my way into society because the way to anyone's heart is their children. Its free on paper but is it really? These are the next CEOs and I'm building my space this early. Leveraging my relationships for more relationships. Opportunities are not given they are created. 

THIS. ESPECIALLY THIS - having a value system. Knowing what is important to me and what isn't. Being a part of high society is NOT important to me so why would i buy a gala ticket the same price as my rent? Buying brands to keep up a rich girl aesthetic? Winters in Gstaad although I despise snow? Being part of high society isn't something I value at all so I don't play social games I'll just go home. Yes I'll maintain my relationships but everyone that is everyone knows it is not a race I fancy (Which, weirdly enough, has made it very easy for me to navigate it). Like I said, fancy things are not important to me so apart from an Aston Martin I don't care about the price I care about the quality. I will be at a thrift store I really don't mind. My peace is very important to me so I'll pick the fancy overpriced library fees over other libraries and I will pay a ridiculous amount in rent for an apartment in the peaceful part of town and I will splurge on a fancy cafe because I know the price range itself buys me peace. Ramit Sethi (In his book I Will Teach You To Be Rich) gives this as the core point of getting wealthy, knowing your value system. What is important to you? What isn't? If you're not for something you're for everything. 

Minimizing responsibilities. I don't have kids and I don't intend to. I don't stupidly commit to things without thinking real real hard about them. I didn't buy things that require me to keep up with paperwork, I don't take on things I need to track. My greatest responsibility in life is my three cats. 

[spiderb00]

Fam Out 3 - Sophia Laforteza

Sophia Laforteza X Reader 

Synopsis - Your girlfriend finally finds out why she is SO delighted with your "family moments" 

Genre – Fluff 

a/n - Wow, Part 3, I guess I'll have to keep going until they actually have a family (oops, spoiler) <3  (request)

part 1 part 2 part 3

The stadium was huge, everything looked beautiful and the atmosphere was exciting. Sophia made sure you accompanied her and the Kats to watch the Rams game, and even though you knew you were going to be the photographer of the night, you wouldn't turn down a night out with your girlfriend.  

After taking several photos and record countless videos for tiktok, you were finally seated, your hands intertwined with Sophia's, watching the game. You didn't watch many games, your work took up a lot of your time, but you always liked to watch a match or two when you had free time.  

Your concentration was soon interrupted with Sophia squeezing your hand twice, and you knowing what it means, immediately looks at your girlfriend.   

"Something wrong, my love?" You say, your eyes interspersed between your beautiful girlfriend's face, and what was happening on the field.   

"Can you get more drinks for me and Yoonchae, please?" She says, leaning in and leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek, for a moment you felt dizzy.  

Reluctantly taking your eyes off the game and looking at your girlfriend's smile, you smiled and gave the Filipino girl a quick kiss on the lips. 

"Of course, beautiful." You stood up giving a friendly wink to Yoonchae, who laughed at your antics.   

Waiting for your turn to order, you notice a woman right behind you, assuming she was waiting too, you didn't worry about it, at least not until the stranger patted you twice on the back, making you look back. 

"Hello." She said.  

"Hi." you said with a polite smile, turning back to the front.    

"Ah, so..." The stranger continued, making you once again look back. "I saw you when you walked in, you're very beautiful." 

"Thank you." You said, at some point she would understand that you weren't interested in whatever she was going to say.  

"I was wondering if you don't want to finish watching the game with me and my friends?" She said biting her lower lip.   

The girl had brown hair and green eyes, she was much shorter than you, and now that you noticed, it looked like she was very close to you.   

"I don't want to, sorry, I have a girlfriend." You said, turning around again and seeing that it was your turn to order.  

You said everything you wanted and waited patiently, taking the money out of your wallet.   

"Well, I'm not seeing her here, so maybe she doesn't need to know." The girl says, putting both hands on your shoulders, making you jump and instantly take her hands off you.  

"Look..." 

"Mom, why are you taking so long? Mommy's worried about you."  

Both you and the woman looked shocked. Of course, for different reasons. The woman was shocked that you apparently had a daughter, who appeared to be a teenager, while you appeared to be only twenty or twenty-one. And you, well, you just wanted to know why the hell Yoonchae was calling you mom.   

"Oh, who are you?" Yoonchae says, looking at the woman. 

"Do you have children?" The woman asks, disturbed by the situation. 

"Yes, she does! Why? Do you think I don't look like her because I'm Asian? That's pretty racist, you know?" Yoonchae said defensively. 

Now, in this situation, you and the guy behind the counter were just watching the whole mess.   

"What's going on here?" Sophia arrives suddenly, wanting to understand the situation. 

"Mommy, this woman is hitting on mom, and she's still insinuating that I'm not your daughter!" Yoonchae said like a spoiled child, honestly, you weren't understanding anything.  

"WHAT, NO! Sorry, I didn't know she was married, and I'm not racist either. I'm sorry, I'm leaving, I'm sorry."   

The woman ran away, while Sophia and Yoonchae let out a laugh. You didn't know it before, but now you were sure you were surrounded by crazy people. Taking her drink from the tray, Yoonchae looked at you and said;  

"So "mom", what did you think of my performance?" The younger girl took a sip of her drink quietly.   

"Are you crazy? What was it all about?" You say, a laugh escaping your lips.   

"You can't think a bitch is going to hit on you and I'm not going to do anything darling." Sophia said, grabbing your cheeks with her fingernails and stealing a kiss.  

Grabbing her drink next, the Filipino girl chuckled as she walked back with Yoonchae to they places. Leaving a very perplexed Yn behind.   

"COME ON BABY, YOU'RE LOSING THE GAME!"   

It was a cold day, and after much urging from Sophia and (mostly) Yoonchae, you found yourself driving towards a store to buy Christmas decorations for the Kats' house. It was still November, but the girls were pretty excited about it (Your girls in particular). So here you were, pushing a shopping trolley that would soon be full of things chosen by the euphoric girls who walked in front of you.   

Sophia would put things she thought were beautiful in the cart, asking for your help on the shelves she couldn't reach, and even making you hold some up high to see if they matched what she was machining in her head. Meanwhile, Yoonchae disappeared and came back soon after with something completely random asking the traditional question, "Can i have this?", receiving some "yes" or "no" from Sophia.   

"Okay, what do you think of that one?" Sophia showed a small Santa, probably to put on top of some shelf.  

"He's cute." You say, making a point of paying attention to the details, after all that seemed very important to Sophia.  

"Yn, can I have this?" Yoonchae shows a simple snow globe, a small house with a few trees in the midst of a large amount of snow.   

"Of course." You say, without losing the smile that the younger girl gave you.   

After paying for things, you were heading to the car with more bags in your hands than you could count. Sophia waiting for you to leave the bags in the car so you could carry a huge, heavy box with your girls' chosen Christmas tree. Anyone looking from the outside would feel sorry for the young girl carrying so much weight, but oh man, you couldn't love it more.  

Driving home, Yoonchae slept peacefully in the back seat, while Laufey played softly through the car's speakers. Your free hand caressing Sophia's thigh while you both had the most beautiful and true smile in the whole world. 

"Are you okay?" You asked as the car pulled up to a stop.  

"Better impossible." Sophia says looking into your eyes, leaning over and stealing a kiss. 

After assembling all the decorations in the Kats' house, you finally got a rest. With the kats out and about to buy food, you and Sophia had some time to yourself. Enjoying every second with a make-out session, you had Sophia sitting on your lap, her legs on either side of your thighs, their hands ruffling your hair, while you had your hands on the Filipino girl's thighs, your back resting on the headboard.   

"I think I finally understood why I love our moments with Yoonchae so much." Sophia said, interrupting the kiss, making you lower your lips towards the black-haired girl's neck.  

"I thought it was because you loved us." You said in a playful tone, momentarily stopping the kisses and looking at the woman on top of you.  

"That too." Sophia said, rolling her eyes with a giggle. "But the main reason became very clear after the last few days." Said the Filipino girl, taking your hands and intertwining with hers.   

"And that reason is..."  You said, waiting for her to complete. 

"I want to have a family with you." She said, looking into your eyes.  

For a minute, you were speechless, but soon you regained consciousness, and with a smile on your face, kissed Sophia passionately.   

The kiss was full of love, a kiss that conveyed security, a non-verbal way of saying that the desire to have a future together was mutual. When you stopped the kiss, you saw tears in Sophia's eyes, you seemed to be hypnotized by each other, and in sync, you both thought you wanted it to last forever.   

"I want to spend every day of my life by your side, did you hear?! I want to build everything with you." You say, kissing Sophia's tears and then looking at the beautiful woman in front of you.   

"I love you, Yn!"  

"I love you much more, Sophia."   

OMG, part three, that's a lot.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and Christmas is near, maybe some Christmas story ideas...

[thelesbiancitizen]

On Women-Loving-Women and Building Our Culture.

a big problem I have with a lot of lesbians is that they want soooo badly for lesbian art and culture to be ~cool~ and ~epic~ and to ~go mainstream~ and they'll be crying and wailing abt the "lack of lesbian representation" ... yeah, in the mainstream. Cus NEWSFLASH. REAL lesbian art, art that's saying something important, will NEVER BE MAINSTREAM. Because mainstream media is built on a whole system of values that entirely excludes the female viewpoint by design. and ESPECIALLY so when it comes to women whose lives center around other women.

Most lesbians, including myself once upon a time, suffer from a massive cultural inferiority complex. It's why you see so many young females identifying as gay men, because they think the culture is way cooler, more glamorous. Cus gay men have money. Lesbians do not.

Lesbian cultural works are made with very little money. And they're made for a specific audience -- other women-who-love-women -- and so they don't cater to what mainstream / malestream values think are cool. Lesbian art particularly from the 70s / 80s (and onward) is following a completely different set of values. It's about clear communication, not obfuscation. It isn't about technique, it's about clarity. It's about bringing what is supposed to be hidden out into the open. It's about using whatever you can to say whatever you've got to say. It's earnest. It's genuine. It's affectionate. It's awkward. It's clumsy. It's a loving gesture. but sooooo depressingly many young women hate it and won't give it a second glance bc you are obsessed with male approval. You crave male approval of these artistic works and you know you'll never get it, you know men will just laugh and dismiss these works bc lesbian art makes men uncomfortable. Because it's so specifically female. It's coming from a different place. A female place. Aimed at other females. Men can't understand it.

And guess what? It doesn't fucking matter. It doesn't. There is TONS AND TONS AND TONS of incredible Lesbian art and cultural products that so many lesbians my age will scoff at and say it sucks bc it isn't "cool", you think it's "cringe", but you never look at why you it is you think that way. Lesbian artists today mostly suck because they're still trying to gain approval from male-dominated institutions, where masculinist value systems still reign supreme. They're not trying to say anything that's really of value to lesbians and continuing the growth and expansion of lesbian culture. They're disconnected from the culture that made it possible for them to be out and open in the first place. They've disowned the women who came before them and did all the messy, difficult work.

Lesbian artists who have made works in the tradition of the Lesbian feminist culture that started in the 70s are so fascinating, their work is very challenging, and really makes you look at things differently. Yet, this tradition is in danger of dying out bc the younger generations are not interested. Because it isn't "cool". Because these lesbians were politically engaged and knew how powerful it was to subvert patriarchal masculinist value systems with their art. But you just look at it and see "bad art". Hmm. Ever wonder why that is?

I'm mostly speaking of visual culture here, but also music, and poetry, too. We need to understand the value of having cultural works created By Lesbians For Lesbians. Eschewing masculinist values. Creating new vocabularies. Really listening to each other. Really trying to hear what we are saying. We need to do this or else Lesbian culture will really truly be dead in a decade or two. It'll just be women copying pornified culture and thinking that's what it means to be a lesbian.

We have to make art about our experiences as women-loving-women, we have to hear each other, see each other, and talk about what we are doing. We need to be having conversations about what we want Lesbian culture to be. And building upon the legacy of the women who came before. This is how we make meaning out of our lives; meaning that is self-determined. It's stupid to sit here and take whatever crumbs we are given from artists who still are trying to appease malestream audiences. Or wailing that there are no good lesbian representations in media. We need to represent ourselves. We need to represent our lives as we see them, as we live them.

We need to value the works that we create, for ourselves, and for each other. Put our powerful Lesbian voices at the center of everything we say and do.

This is how we will find each other. This is how we will banish our loneliness and hopelessness and cast out despair. We let our lights shine and we make room for each other. We've GOT to start having CONVERSATIONS ABOUT CULTURE.

Art scenes are like gardens. Every work of art is like a plant. What do we want to cultivate? What do we want to plant to feed ourselves and for the next generations of lesbians? It's all up to us. If we want new images, we have to create them. If we want new sounds, we have to make them. If we want new language, we have to invent it.

We as women NEED to make works of art that express how we feel about ourselves and each other. How we love each other. How we hate each other. What we mean to each other. What our relationships mean, what they really look like. How it really feels to try and fail and succeed at loving one another. When we are at the center of our own worlds. We have to stop marginalizing our own experiences and voices inside our heads and JUST SPEAK.

Every piece of art you make adds your voice to a lineage of ideas. It becomes a part of a historical narrative. It means we are here. Our work is important. We have the right to speak on and engage with stories, narratives, systems of values, concepts, and ideas. And if you can, you should. If you have the opportunity, you're lucky. Do it.

Speak.

Say something. Say anything. Be honest. Be messy. Be real. Make something.

CREATE, WOMAN!

We need to seriously engage with each other's ideas. We need to respect each other's intellect and artistic processes enough to let ourselves unfold. We need to quit arguing so much and PUT IT INTO ART. AND PUT IT OUT THERE. PLEASE!

BECAUSE I NEED TO HEAR YOU!!!!! AND I NEED YOU TO HEAR ME!!!!!!

We have nothing left to lose.

Maybe I'll start a magazine.

[isaakbutler]

This is amazing to know. But I am still just this side of irked that they caved to the pressure of magat bigots with the pride collection being basically ripped out of southern stores entirely and in stores where they did have it they hid it in a weird section of the store so you couldn't find it. All because a handful of giga had uber bigots lost their damn minds and threatened to take their money elsewhere.

All of these hyper right wing alleged self proclaimed christian extremist Nazi bigots who professionally play the victim every chance they get are the most exhausting piles of offal on the face of the Earth. They will scream that everybody else is a snowflake but they get triggered when literally anybody that's not them exists in a space that doesn't have anything to do with them. And they are the first to scream about being discriminated against but they're the ones discriminating and excluding and hating and using cherry-picked deliberately misinterpreted parts of the so-called Christian faith as a blunt instrument to harm others.

And that's the same group of people that Target, as a corporation, caved to when Pride merchandise was yanked out of stores or hidden away in weird spots or severely limited or in the case of every store in my area made non-existent entirely.

So whilst they make strides to actually be supportive of the LGBTQIA+ community, they still will cave to the conservative dollar if they scream hard enough and we don't need to forget that. Especially for the next 4 years of this God awful coming presidency.

People being angry about ~dem gays~ on Target’s Facebook.

[angrykittybarbarian]

About that Dragon Age: The Veilguard audio web series

Thinking back about the marketing for DATV I now realize it was kind of deceptive.

No, it was not literal fraud. They did not make specific promises and then broke them, not explicitely and in a way you could hold them liable in court over. And I get when you are advertising your product you will of course highlight its most favorable aspects while not shoving its negative sides into everyone's noses.

However I do think that EA/Bioware did stretch out the boundaries between regular endorsement and fraud.

It started with the web series Vows and Vengeance they uploaded weekly on Youtube right before release. At that time I was still hopeful and excited for the game. And Vows and Vengeance all but encouraged that excitement.

You know why? Because, and this surprised me, it was genuinely good.

Vows and Vengeance functioned as an early introduction to the companions. While they were not the main characters they did play a key role in each episode. The plot was what could be typically expected from a regular DA installment. It had a dark, gripping story. The dialogue was well written. It dealt with mature themes, it actually discussed the classism of Tevinter.

Lucanis was a proper crow who killed a good man because he was hired to do so. He was positively morally grey. Davrin had actually strong opinions when the main character dropped the Dread Wolf's name. Bellara was interesting in that it became clear how she struggled with her ADHD without using infantile language, Scout Harding acted smart, mature and competent, Taash was a morally grey bad ass, fitting for a freelance treasure hunter and with smart and witty dialogue to go with it.

It was amazing, I found myself excited every week for a new episode. It got me interested in the companions. I already contemplated to romance Taash because they were so cool and charismatic in that series. I thought, if a FREE webseries that was made for advertisement was already this great then the game had to be nothing short of phenomenal.

And then it just...wasn't. There was nothing of the depth that came through in the web series. It was as if I was presented with a sample of a multilayered chocolate cake but got a dry brownie after I actually paid the full price for it.

The sheer audacity behind this course of action is still so inconcievable to me, I sometimes still wonder why they put effort into writing the free thing and not the product they demand payment for. I still don't get it. The only explanation is they purposefully put out a misleading sample to lure in the customers in the beginning to spend money, right?

This fraud adjacent behavior does not stop there.

Remember when we thought we would be importing our worldstates from our previous games? There wasn't even a question about it in the beginning because this is such an intrinsic Bioware feature. But then the info about the three choices in the character creator leaked.

Leaked!

Meaning they never intended for this information to be known pre-release. They fully intended to keep it secret until it would be too late. They also never said they wanted a soft reboot.

This is the conclusion the fandom has drawn after they destroyed their own lore and went scorched earth on the entire south of Thedas.

And the biggesr lie was when they said this was their best work. After all this!

This is the reason why DATV's shortcomings are so devastating. This is why so many feel like the game was a slap to their faces. EA/Bioware gaslit and manipulated us from the very beginning. We have been cheated and betrayed.

The last bit of trust I and many others had in Bioware, they mercilessly crushed.

I personally will never take even one thing they say at face value again. You can only trust their actions from now on.

[stychu-stych]

Okay so I gotta ask for clarification. The modern era: is it similar to ours??

If so, how does the Lamb maintains finances to keep them and Narinder afloat? Is there schooling similar to our systems? How old would they hypothetically be then?

Also, side question, what would be their favourite seasons? Considering how things have changed clothing wise

- from an extremely frozen Canadian

Oooo I really like questions about the cult 🔥 I can yap about how cults work, what're they methods of gaining new followers, how they can manipulate people and how I imagine Lamb's cult based on the knowledge I have

I just want to warn you that there's pretty late for me and I'm so tired, and my english might not englishing even more than usual

So the world is similar to ours, the main difference is that the magic is real. And about the finances- basically it works like any other cult. Some of the cult members still have "normal" jobs and they donate some % of their paychecks to the cult's savings, some of the members sell products made by the community, some money come from the new members that are convinced that they don't need it anymore. And some of the savings come from crusades times

The community has it's own schooling system of course (classic for cults JSBSJSH indoctrinated at very young age already). The kids learn about basic knowledge but there's also a lot of propaganda in it

About the age - so Lamb: they are over 300 or 350 yo (in modern times where all the bishops are mortals already). Narinder is an old, grumpy man, with focus on that "old" part. Few thousand years for sure. He probably doesn't know how old he is either.

Fav seasons: I think Narinder can handle summer pretty well, sun is nice, being warm is nice, typical cat JSSJHSSJ Lamb prefer spring more

[aspergerasparagus]

I need a little story centered around Toon Frankie and Toon Lucky, I don't know why but I need it, you write like a god, you've already made me laugh and cry, you are the best

(Obviously don't listen to me, it's still cool how you describe these questionable bunnies)

Short little bit that I might expand on like I did with the dreams one as I do have ideas for where this could lead. Anyway have Toon actually being kinda... nice. If only temporary. Also might follow it up depends if I get the energy.

None of the Frankies had expected it to happen, who would? Something like this only happened in sci-fi novels or those cheesy British tv shows the fans watched. But when it did happen of course to say it was a shock would have been an understatement, the rabbit had practically bolted to the other side of his living space when the brown bunny had materialized into existence. He couldn’t explain why it had happened but given how panicked the knock-off had been at the loss of his precious little money maker, it seemed it had been unplanned. Their real body was still outside, in the real world, currently sleeping soundly in a makeshift medical ward. While their mind was here, taking the form not too dissimilar to that of the cartoon. Large lopped ears trailed behind them, tufts of fur dotted their face (similarly to how their mask used to Frankie noted), and they had the similar coiled springs for limbs mimicking the other rabbit. The main differences of course were the colours. Lucky was sporting a new coating of brown fur, similar to his original hair tone, not to mention actually wearing clothes other than just a hat like Frankie did. 

If Frankie was being honest with himself, which he obviously wasn’t about to begin to do, Lucky looked… cute. Obviously he still wore a perpetual frown and large bags under his heavily lidded eyes, but still he was kinda cute. It was also so strange to see him able to emote and actually show how he felt given that without the mask he could show different facial expressions. Yes most of them were ranging from displeased to outright furious, but still. It was… nice. Not that Frankie would admit such a thing! It just made him easier to read, is all!

Their immediate reaction had been to freak out (to put it lightly), Lucky more so. He’d lashed out at the toon the moment he laid eyes on him and realised where he was. Blaming him for all this and trying to swing at him. Of course he wasn’t used to his new body and the “rules” that were less so well enforced here meaning he’d over extended himself and crashed into a heap, only worsening the situation as Frankie tried not to laugh. He had looked hilarious, wrapped up in the mess of tangled limbs as he tried desperately to get them back under his control. Frankie hadn’t seen them so flustered before so had taken the opportunity to have a few digs at them. How could he not? This was the funniest thing he’d seen in ages, even if it was highly confusing.

That had been until he’d heard the man choke. He sounded like he was gasping, like something was lodged in his throat but that couldn’t be the case. Letting his laughter catch in his throat the rabbit regarded the other toon in front of him, genuinely starting to worry now. He’d never seen them like this before, their eyes wide and unfocused as they gasped for air, their whole body trembling and heaving. He had heard Frankie yelling something in the distance, trying to get his lucky contestant to calm down, to focus on their breathing but it didn’t seem like he could hear the other rabbit. It was… unpleasant. This wasn’t how this bastard was supposed to act.

Hesitantly the toon had knelt down in front of Lucky, clicking his fingers in front of them. It had taken a few attempts and him yelling their name but eventually he saw their eyes come back into focus as they locked on him, their whole body shaking violently now and he was pretty sure they were going to pass out if this continued any longer. 

“Hey, get yourself together! You’re freaking me out alright…” Frankie tried to mask his anxiety behind a more aloof attitude but even he could hear the fear creep into his voice.

He’s seen other contestants like this before. When they cowered in fear knowing their end was soon closing in on them. Then it was funny to watch them as they practically wet themselves in fear and just froze up. But seeing it up close like this, and with it being Lucky… it wasn’t nearly as funny anymore. He really didn’t like it. He heard The Other calling to him, telling him to try and get Lucky to calm down. Easier said than done, you waste of scrap! How the hell was he supposed to get this stupid human(ish) to calm down before he keeled over?!

Wracking his brain, Frankie finally just decided to wing it. Taking a deep breath to steady himself (and to calm them now brightening blush on his cheeks) he gently took their trembling hands into his own and nuzzled against his cheek softly. The effect was almost instant as he felt Lucky immediately freeze, taken aback by the sudden contact. Frankie couldn’t help the soft purr that escaped him as Lucky slowly reciprocated and buried his face against his neck, the grip on his hands tightening as he grounded himself. 

The rabbit couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to his dream. Having Lucky so close like this, snuggled against him as he felt their hot breath against his neck. He had to bite his lip to suppress the shiver, but there was also something else. Just having someone else like this, so close to him, it was… nice. No, it was more than that. Of course he wouldn’t call himself touch starved but it was just that. He needed this just as much as the panicking man did.

After a minute or so, he felt Lucky pull away, his arms having now returned to their normal position as his breathing finally settled. He looked a little shaken still but as he faced the toon he gave him a small smile. A genuine one.

“Thank you, I’m sorry about that. I haven’t had one of those in awhile but this isn't exactly a normal situation…” He trailed off as he seemed to suddenly get embarrassed. Frankie could only mumble out a small “it’s fine”, the colour of his cheeks returning full force now. He really wasn’t used to seeing Lucky like this. He was usually so strong headed and sure of himself, so it was unusual to see him so… vulnerable. Frankie wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“Don’t do that again okay? It freaked me out. But… at least you seem okay now. So that’s good…” He was almost pouting now, flustered at the whole ordeal, but his statement seemed to have tickled the contestant who just chuckled and gave the rabbit a smirk.

“Oh, is that concern for me I see? Puffball I am surprised, didn’t think you cared.” Oh no, there he was. The nickname and attitude was doing nothing for the rabbit who was begging that he was wasn't giving too much away. Instead Frankie just tried to shot the man a sour look before getting to his feet to huff.

“I absolutely don’t care! But you having a fucking panic attack isn’t exactly going to be great for me, especially if your little owner sees me doing nothing about it! I had no choice in the matter!” He was on the defence and hopefully the other rabbit would just see it as his typically aggressive attitude, nothing else. But given the small hmm he heard behind him, they were obviously seeing right through him, like they had in the dream, however they kept their mouth shut. Thankfully. Instead he heard Lucky unsteadily get to his feet as he went to reassure The Other who practically had his face glued to the screen demanding his little money maker reassure him, while shooting daggers at his boss.

Meanwhile Frankie could feel his face beginning to burn. All he could do was yank on his ears and try to bury his face against them, trying to do anything to calm his racing heart down. How was he supposed to deal with this?! Especially with his dream racing in his head. This was going to be a nightmare. Unless... Eyeing the other rabbit over, his thoughts turned darker. Maybe he could make his dream a reality after all. If he played his cards right.

[starrycassi]

VERY old and uncooked au I have where Viktor (and eventually jayce) end up working for Silco.

PART 1 - VIKTOR (childhood, adolescence, survival)

Singed actually takes the child in. Yeah I know Viktor technically HAS parents but we've never seen em in the show so I'm ignoring them

So Viktor now lives + works for singed. He gets over his morals real quick when faced with a fully equipped laboratory. He's a child, okay? He gets excited and is eventually groomed (I don't mean romantically, just like molded) by singed into agreeing + obeying all the things the older man tells him. Silco joins in on the part later and toys with his brain as best as he can

Singed uses him as a bargaining chip with Silco. An investment, if you will.

A bit of a "future promise" thing. Viktor actually agrees to this because he knows it's the best shot he's got. All the years living alongside Singed have made him into a more cynical/realistic person. He's 13 and already grumbles at "kids these days"

And Silco is an opportunistic man. He looks at this young, blooming genius and goes "yeah, why not? He is your problem, though. Have some money and make me a bomb"

Viktor also gets a pretty decent gun and shooting lessons. His aim is decent enough. He also hangs around sevika A LOT. He recognizes her as the strongest, safest individual if a fight breaks out and tells her ad much. She won't admit it but the praise feels good. She allows him to hover around and he helps her with small things like lighting hee cigarettes or refilling her flask. It's a symbiotic relationship where they both look at each other dead in the eye when someone is saying stupid shit.

So Viktor is like 15 and suddenly faced with even MORE power and recognition, even MORE fundings and accomodations.

This boy pours his life and time into making weapons. His dreams of being a scientist are slowly forgotten as both Singed and Silco effectively turn him into their perfect little genius.

They turn his desire to help against himself, telling him that the only way the under city will ever get better is if they go against piltover and win (which yeah I mean it kinda makes sense) and just general promises and such

Silco is genuinely surprised by how inventive the kid can be, and in return Viktor appreciates the man's offers and words for what it is: a trap he's wilfully walking in.

Silco does NOT feel any affection for the kid. At least not a lot more than he does for sevika or any other loyal worker. He is amused by his intelligence and somewhat entertained by his ideas. He seems Viktor as more of a small dog he's raising, expecting him to develop sharper and sharper fangs. He does care for Viktor in the "one of my youngest workers is more efficient and savvy than five of yours" way

Viktor doesn't feel any affection for Silco, either. He's a really down-to-earth kid, has lived in the fissures all his life and has been coached by singed into how to navigate the under city. He knows singed doesn't really trust the man and doesn't plan on doing so himself. He does love the opportunity he's given, but knows damn well that it's all done for a higher reason.

He does feel a connection with singed, though. It's mutual in a way. More of a mentor-mentee thing than any paternal/familiar relationship, but they're both satisfied with it. Singed respects Viktor and treats him as an equal, which also means he can a bit too harsh on what is essentially still a fragile teen.

They are protective of Viktor only in the way one is protective of their own gun

PART 2 - VIKTOR (last of his teen years, young adulthood, rage)

EVENTUALLY Viktor manages to worm his way into the academy (in the same way he did in canon) while hiding from Silco, Singed and Sevika, and is, instead, rejected. Heimerdinger is too weary of Viktor and his general attitude (for a good reason) and plans on having him interrogated. When he tries to get Viktor to walk alone into a room with him, Viktor panics and starts stuttering out explanations. He knows his position in the under city is conditional. Knows the leash that Silco has around him. The academy could be his safe haven and now he's losing it.

Heimerdinger does his best to try and calm him down, however, every word he says makes the situation worse. He's so clearly out of touch, promising things that could never be done.

Viktor is under a lot of pressure and just starts spiraling. Everything the yordle says makes things worse and worse. The commotion calls the school guards attention and Viktor gets almost thrown in jail, all while heimerdinger tries to tell the guards to let him go. Viktor eventually manages to sneak out but fucks his leg up even more in the process.

He returns "home" and, refusing to cry for such a thing, turns his sadness into bright, burning indignation. Silco might be an idiot, he realizes, but he's right about some things. He burns down the uniform after ripping it into shreds.

After all of this, he abandons any dream of ever getting out. Singed looks at him knowingly, tells him that sneaking around is a fine art he hasn't mastered yet, and leaves. Silco welcomes him back with a satisfied smile, and a "see, boy? I was right"

Silco isn't killing Viktor for his betrayal because he smells the heartbreak and KNOWS that this is the time to attack if he wants that boy to be on his side for the rest of his life. Sevika isn't even mad. Just kinda disappointed.

And it WORKS. Viktor is devastated and isolated, and Silco effectively positions himself as the only current logical option. Viktor knows that this is all a shit show but decides that there's nothing to lose by working for the biggest kingpin on the city

Years go by, Viktor becomes part of silco's inner gang. He develops what could be seen as a friendship with sevika. They drink together every so often, trash-talking the rest of the henchmen in hushed whispers in between assignments. She tries to give him life advice in cryptic ways. He kinda gets it. Most of the time.

He's also a bit of a slut. I mean he's young, hot, kinda part of Zaun's elite, smart... yeah he's getting around. This part is important I swear. No it's not I just want Viktor to get it on. He's constantly sneaking pretty boys in and out of wherever he's staying at that week (idk where the fuck sevika sleeps. Do silco's henchmen just sleep in his house??? Does he provide apartments?? I need to know)

People in the under city actually start *talking* to Viktor as he gets older, realizing that he's a bit less violent than the rest of silco's thugs. This is always weird to him but he endures it for the sake of staying on top of what's being said in the city.

He buys from benzo frequently, and Benzo tolerates him because once, very slowly and in a hushes tone, he heard Viktor tell Ekko to never work for anyone with a shark aquarium.

PART THREE - MEETING JAYCE.

He's in the very same shop when he meets jayce.

He goes "yeah I could get him to suck me off probably" and tries to approach

And then jayce pays in GOLD and DOESN'T HAGGLE

And he realizes that this idiot is a piltie. He also realizes that whatever the fuck he just bought could've been useful for him and silco will not like it if a PILTIE out of everyone takes them. He literally gets in between him and the door with absolutely no idea of what he's going to do (there is absolutely no way he's upping that payment sorry silco you are no match for the Kirammans)

There is no time and he defaults to "oh this is my bedroom" mode.

Cue him saying something like "I've never seen such a pretty face in this store. Are you from around here, darling?"

Ekko is gagging in the background.

They flirt yada yada I have the scene but it's too long to write here. U get the idea. I'd anyone wants to read that ask me but for now just use your imagination

Viktor offers Jayce to come back with him to his house. Ask this is happening the kids are staging the heist.

They make out a bit, Jayce tells Viktor all about his theory (which is arguably hotter for Viktor) and shows him his notes (because obviously he carries his journal with him)

Viktor is BLOWN AWAY by this. He gets all worked up. Never felt this horny before. They discuss for a while, and Viktor decides that THIS is something he can stand behind. Actual discoveries, not just drawing blueprints after blueprint of the same fucking thing

Really how many ways can one design a weapon in

Anyways

Viktor sort of mildly drugs jayce and steals three of the shiny orbs and then wakes Jayce up and tells him that this was delightful and such.

PART FOUR - Hey Silco Can We Adopt This Boy. For Science

The heist happens the very same way. Viktor hears about it, about the trial, and decides that all these years of work should get him some privileges

He has his very first actual fight with Silco and Singed about it, but they eventually and very reluctantly agreed to give him two bodyguards so he can go play prince and break jayce out of jail.

Silco knows that even a worm will turn. If Jayce does agree to work for them, then they get another good worker. If not, they can always kill him. He's never heard Viktor this adamant about someone before, and damn he's seen the boy walk around with some pretty faces. Maybe this Jayce fella truly is smart.

Viktor breaks jayce out do NOT ask me how #thepoweroflove or whatever. The henchmen get to punch enforcers so they're happy about it.

The "am I interrupting?" Scene happens. It's also too long so.

It takes Viktor a while to convince Jayce to, yk, betray his country and leave everything he's ever known behind, but Jayce was literally about to kill himself and Viktor is talking about change and help and people who actually need it (lies) and he looks so beautiful under the moonlight and he remembered him. So. Really what can one realistically do in this situation if not agree.

They rush back, Jayce leaves a hasty suicide note and says he will drown himself in the river, they break into heimerdinger's room via breaking down the fucking door, steal all the equipment they can carry (henchmen & co brought some bags okay??)

When Mel arrives they're gone. She calls for the guards to come but they're long gone (there might be a motorcycle involved. Cyclists Viktor... Yeah)

PART FIVE - JINX AND JAYCE

Viktor shows up and finds out that silco has adopted a child. Also Sevika doesn't have an arm. Also Vander is dead. So is Benzo. Which is a bummer.

Jayce hates everything that's going on around him buts this man is SUICIDAL he's just kinda going with the flow. Having him gives Viktor his backbone and morals back. Slowly. Ver slowly.

Hextech develops WAY slower. Like they're working in a drug den there's absolutely no way there's the same conditions. They're doing their best though.

Jayce Is actually really impressed by shimmer and how it can "help" people. He's gaslighting himself ATP and everyone else is enabling him.

Also eventually Silco also gives Viktor a laced brace that makes him mildly addicted to shimmer. Viktor is clever enough to realize what's going on but also experienced enough to know that refusal would be seen as an offense. He takes the brace on and off with his own prototypes. Sevika and him both know they're just digging themselves into a deeper hole.

Silco actually tries to kill jayce one because he was getting too fucking annoying, but Jinx steps in. He reminds him of claggor (in a way). She claims that they're both her friends and silco just seethes in silence.

They help raise her. Kinda.

I wrote all of this so I could successfully say that they have a tea party with jer

THEY LOVE LIL JINX OKAAY. Specially jayce. He takes all his emptiness and tries to fill it with love for her and Viktor, the only two people he feels are kind of honest to him

Also Jayce being jealous of the fact that Viktor got around, specially when he has the audacity to give powder boy's advice (sevika is a STONE TOP LESBIAN you can NOT tell me anything else) right in Jayce's face. Yeah. Miscommunication. Falling in love. Devotion and guilt. Feelings of owing. Hesitant kisses and never said words. YEEES. I know it's a bit tropey but I like it so. Yeah.

Also both Jayce and Vik have long hair. Jinx insisted they let it grow like hers. Jayce's actually reaches his shoulder plates/mid back while Viktor keeps it shoulder length, just long enough to tie it. I think. Still haven't decided since long hair Jayce is too hard to mentally picture but I know he would look GOOD

Yes this also means that Jayce and Vi meet even earlier. They take a look at each other as they both try to calm down jinx and Become Best Friends™

Caitlyn always has a heart attack because YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD. She, like Vi, goes "yeah silco is definitely keeping my sister/brother captive" and they're both like You Will Not Believe This.

Viktor doesn't join them in their adventures because he is Not jumping around the roofs. He uses a cane. Leave him alone jinx no he can't climb the stupid ass tower.

Jinx and Jayce become a sort of "ground control" thing. Jayce is BUFFED that man can stand his own in a fight. He's not as quick or flexible but he makes up for it in pure absolute brawn. They're not actually doing anything useful they're just entertaining Jinx every so often.

Idk guys this au is consuming my brain.

I have more ideas but this was way too long already

If u read this far u can actually ask for a small scene on the au or add an idea and I'll write it for u

[marciaillust]

What discworld books have you read so far? I've been wanting to get into the series for a while but I never now where to start 🥺

My dear best friend is overseeing the whole process as I began reading the books as a part of a pact/challenge

They made me start with Going Postal as that would introduce me to "the most shaped guy out there that you'll love" and they were right I loved the guy and the book too. It's sorta a trilogy so I wanted to immediately go into the second book (Making Money) but I was forbidden from doing so as that includes Sam Vimes which is like a whole guy from the Nightwatch books, and my friend's big fav.

So then I was made to read Guards Guards. I didn't enjooooy GG all that much but later I was informed that Going Postal is Pratchett at his high point well into writing Discworld while GG is one of the first books in the series so he is still finding his footing there. But it did a great Job of introducing Sam Vimes, Carrot, Sybil the dragon lady and all the other Nightwatch characters.

While I'm not a fan of GG I think reading it was kinda necessary to properly enjoy the next Nightwatch book aka Men At Arms (I'm still doing my prep work for Making Money). Without reading GG I don't think Carrot growing up, or the conflict between Sam and Sybil, or the whole idea that the watch is getting new recruits would be anywhere as meaningful because how would you know what the status quo even was. I am really enjoying Men At Arms, I am currently mid-book! It came out like 4 years after GG so the writing style somewhat ripened in the meantime and resembles the quality of Going Postal (it has more pathos and new lovely freaks!!).

After I finish MAA I'll finally indulge in Making Money! And I've already set my eyes on Rising Steam (third book in the series). After that I might go back to the Nightwatch books but I've also been curious about the book with the Death's assistant, I am blanking on the name rn.

So that was my journey. I was told partially it was curated like that because it gives you the "potential blorbos" on a silver plate, as my friend knows I am no bookworm and I will require something to stick around for.

I am no expert on where to start either, I just know I am neck deep in the investment pool of Moist Von Lipwig

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I DIDN'T KNOW LEONA KNEW ABOUR RAVEN'S CRUSH ON J WORD QUNFKANSKD does he tease her about her? does he takes advantage of this knowledge in some way?

also the “angsts about not being "the one"” made me kind of sad tho ngl jqnfkwnakdns DON'T DO THIS TO ME. (cries in a corner)

[Referencing this post!]

I MEAN... I feel like Raven's crush is obvious and easy to tell 😭 Girl is so bad at hiding it. Various other students in the cast (even ones she's not particularly friends with) such as Vil, Ace, Floyd, and Rook are aware of it. There's no way that someone as perceptive and as smart as Leona would let that one go over his head!

I think of this knowledge as being a constant source of angst for Leona (y'know, because it plays into his whole inferiority complex about being "second best, never first place"). He can't have his skills acknowledged, the crown, the interdorm magift tournament win, love... Life's not fair. If he's in a really bad mood, he might make a bitter jab about it. Maybe something like, "Why don't you go crying to that slimy eel bastard, since you clearly enjoy being lied to so long as it comes with a generous side of cooing?" If he's feeling more confident, he definitely finds ways to use the relationship for personal gain. For example, in the hostage situation my friend wrote, Leona is pressuring Octavinelle to hand over the money owed to Savanaclaw by using Raven as a bargaining chip. I guess she's just another pawn in his 5D chess games sometimes.

Speaking of Savanaclaw, I like to imagine that (because they admire their dorm leader so much) they're all super supportive of Leona and act as his wingmen + hype him up when he's clearly brooding. You can see the beginnings of this dynamic in the EBG posts, particularly when the mobs make Raven follow Leona around and how Ruggie often asks her to be more patient with him. In a lot of my Leona and Raven interactions, Ruggie tends to be the main wingman. He thinks it's funny seeing his dorm leader act all grumpy over prey and teases him about it, especially when Leona fucks up and acts overly aggressive/scares her. Really, Ruggie ends up being the guy helping Leona out the most by mediating arguments, running related errands, and gathering info on Raven's likes/dislikes (for a price, of course).

Jack is the underclassman that’s a little slow on the uptake. He sees how Leona stares at Raven and assumes they got beef. Ruggie shakes his head at Jack and tells him he doesn’t understand at all, he’s still an immature puppy! Jack wants to know what’s up, but he also doesn’t want to intrude on his dorm leader’s personal life.

As for the general Savanaclaw mobs 😂 I guess I just like the idea of a group of really buff guys being super invested in their aniki finding happiness. Real bro’s bros! ^^

[wistfulcynic]

i grew up in the USA where house insulation efficiency probably depends a lot on where you live, but the salient point is i lived in a draughty old american house and when i moved to a draughty old british house what surprised me most was not the draughts but that people didn't ever do anything about them.

so. Basic strategies for dealing with your cold, damp, draughty, poorly insulated UK house:

put plastic on your windows. My dad did this every year when i was growing up and afaik he still does. You can get window insulating kits online or at some home and garden type stores. It's a bit like clingfilm but thicker and you attach it to your windows using double-sided tape. If you are in a listed building with no double glazing, like me, this will cut down the draughts remarkably. And then in warmer weather you just peel it off. Won't damage the paint.

dehumidify. Damp always makes you feel colder and of course also contributes to mould problems. Damp air is harder to heat, takes longer to warm up, and holds heat less efficiently. We have a desiccant dehumidifier that moves from room to room in our house and when it is running it warms the air by a noticeable amount. 3-4 degrees at times. Desiccant dehumidifiers also work in cold temperatures so if your unheated house is 13-15C, which is what mine can be, then the dehumidifier will control damp and warm the room up. The downside is that they aren't cheap (~£150-£200) but if you have the money they are a good investment. They are also pretty energy efficient especially compared to standard radiators.

if you are able to paint your walls, there are paint additives that help to insulate them. They aren't a magical fix but since i repainted my freezy office space with them and also my unheated kitchen the walls are less frigid to the touch. Helps both to keep cold out and heat in.

reflect the heat from the radiators. You can get silver insulation roll that's made of foam with a shiny surface and can be cut to size to fit between your radiator and the wall. Will help to reflect the heat back into the room instead of losing heat to warm up the wall. Downside, if you have cats they WILL try to claw it up and destroy it.

tapestry strategy. If you live in an old house odds are you can't get cavity wall insulation because you don't have a cavity in your wall. Steal a trick from the people who lived in draughty stone castles and hang stuff on the inside of your walls. A curtain that covers a door, a blanket on an external wall, draught excluders, all these things will help.

there isn't a single perfect slam-dunk solution to a poorly insulated house but if you use a combination of these or other smaller measures they can add up to a significantly more comfortable environment.

please reblog to save a life and add any other tips!

Just a reminder of how shit it is here. Even if there wasn't a cost of living crisis and fuel crisis, the UK has some of the worst homes in Europe. For a long time I just assumed everywhere was like this, but it's not 🙃

(image descriptions in alt)

Link: https://newstartmag.co.uk/articles/uk-homes-among-worst-in-europe-for-energy-efficiency/

[loonavrsl]

241128 [💌] Yves' letter to fans for her 7th debut anniversary

Hi! I just arrived home after finishing dance lessons. It's a pity to have the day pass by as soon as I arrive, and so I write. It had snowed just like this, on that day. Coming home while stepping on the soft snow, I briefly glimpsed my past self. I used to get called over by teachers at school and be scolded for grasping at clouds, because I wanted to become a singer. On the two-hour ride home aboard the 1002 bus, the pitch-black darkness outside the window seemed just like my future. What if I really was chasing clouds? Those times, seemingly in my grasp but never quite, would always scatter like the morning fog. Meanwhile, I shed my school uniform and the first digit of my age changed, but my days were cruel. I'd walk an hour's distance to save money on fares, shedding the snow piled up on my shoulders and listening to Haseul's "Let Me In". I vividly remember myself wiping the damp screen with shattering cold hands, looking at that album cover again and again, running to my part-time job. I don't think I could ever forget being accepted to the company I'd been rejected from twice, and coming face-to-face with Haseul. I think it was an incredibly big happiness to be able to do the music I like, together with the precious relationships that I'd never have met if it wasn't for the group. True happiness can only be felt after experiencing misfortune, did they say? Maybe the heavens were jealous, or maybe I did wrongs in my past life, but after spending a year that felt like a decade, I was standing on the stage alone. They also say that no pain is meaningless. Even though my past self may have been upset, I'm assured that that has made me a little more sturdy and resilient. But why does a corner of my heart ache. Perhaps it is aimed towards you all. Have you ever seen a shooting star? When I blew out my birthday candles, I'd often try to get as many wishes in as possible and the candle would drip onto the cake. One night, at the shooting star rushing towards me in the sky I'd just looked up at, I wished without hesitation: 'Please let everyone be happy'. I don't know if that wish is still valid, but like the meteor headed to me then, perhaps I too am rushing towards that happiness that I don't know of yet. Please don't hate me. I am not a bad person. Tonight, I hear those words that I endlessly repeated and repeated inside myself for six years, like an echo. Now, when the vestige of those echoes fade, I want to speak anew in a calm voice. Thank you for loving me. Someday, when this resonance ends, I'd like to impart another new set of words to you. On this silent night with the world covered in white snow, leaving my clamorous heart behind; to you, to whom I want to give only love.

Translation by: litell_johnn

[smiley-mcdoggington]

Uhhhh what if Stan called like a year before Bill and Ford broke up but Bill was the one that answered the phone. TW SUICIDAL TW STANCEST!!!!!!

Stan's stiff fingers could barely feel the quarters he dragged to slot into the payphone. Three, one after the other. 75 cents. Not enough for a hot meal, not enough for more than a few miles in his car. Enough to change what was in his wallet from a side to a meal but on their own the coins didn't matter enough. It was okay, he just wanted to hear Stanford, that was worth more than 75 cents.

He felt the bones in his fingers as they pressed into the cold metal numbers - it was supposed to be warm in Florida, why the hell was it so cold? He didn't have to pull out the scrap of paper he'd written Ford's number on years ago - he knew it by heart, even if he kept it in his pocket anyway.

The phone rang twice before it picked up. "Yellow?" Stanford's voice intoned chipperly. No 'Dr. Stanford Pines' residence', no 'What's the purpose of this call?'. It was friendly, familiar. Was he waiting for someone else to call? Had he been waiting at the phone for someone and got his hopes up when it was only Stan?

Stan almost took the receiver away from his ear, almost put it back and wasted another 75 cents when Stanford's voice said, in the most knowing way: "Stanley."

Stan didn't know how Ford knew it was him - was he breathing too loud? Had he muttered something? Was this habit of his catching up to him? Stan tried to force his throat to open enough to let a word slip free, but then Stanford spoke again.

"You want something, don't you?" His voice didn't match the accusation, but it still made Stan wanna hurl.

"No-- I didn't - that's not why I called, I ain't some--" He lied through his ill-fitting dentures until Stanford cut him off.

"But you do want something. You want everything. You want S-- my attention. You want money, you want luck, you want a boat and you want me to drop everything so that my life can become providing you those things, don't you?"

"Moses - No, Ford! That's - I don't." The phone booth around him felt very cramped, and the light inside with the dark outside made it impossible to see outside the tiny space. "I-I just called to talk, okay? Nothing else, I swear." He felt like a kid pleading his case while already laid out on the curb.

"Talk, yes, you're a real talker, Stanley. I always hated that when we were little, you know, it was like I couldn't even get my thoughts out before you were blabbering on, taking all the attention you could grasp for while not saying a single thing of importance. But you can't talk your way out of being a bum, can you, Stanley?"

Stan wanted to hang up but at this point he was sitting on the cold ground letting the cold crawl into his skin and the hook was just out of reach. Ford knew? Some feeble, tiny part of him had always thought - thought if Ford knew how he was actually doing then Ford might care. That he was doing a good thing by not saying anything to Ma so no one would worry. But Ford knew. At least he knew part of it. He knew Stan was huddled in a phone booth spending some of his last quarters on a phonecall before going to find a side road to park in to sleep. Ford just didn't care.

"How much do you know?" The anger tried to reach his tone but the lump in his throat made the question a strangled whisper.

"Oh, I know a lot of things, Stanley Pines." Stanford's voice crooned mockingly, so clear over the phone it made Stan sick. "I know you've been living in your car since the day you were kicked out. I know you've got some interesting people tailing you. I know you've used that trick you learned with your tongue when we were fifteen on more men than you can count for pocket change so you could listen to me breathe for a minute." He said, tone so unaffected it made Stan wonder if the conversation was even real. Then Stanford said something that had his gut rolling.

"I know you didn't mean to break my machine." He said, so casually, as if he'd never thought he did it on purpose. "Of course you didn't - a plan like that to get me to stay close enough you could leech off me? You couldn't even think of something like that, could you, Stanley? No, you didn't mean to, but when it happened it clicked in your little pea brain that you'd get everything you wanted if you just let it be for once. So you let it happen. So I simply repaid the favor - let Dad beat your greasy face in and then throw you to the wolves. Your eyes for an eye, as the saying goes--"

"Fuck you." Stan spat, voice raw, thoughts scattered like broken glass.

"I think you've done enough fucking for the both of us, bruiser." Ford said amusedly. "Don't call again, your existence is a distraction I don't care to feed."

Stan wanted to say something - anything. But then the phone buzzed. Ford had hung up.

Stan screamed, throwing the receiver against the wall of the phone booth before leaving it to dangle while he threaded his hands in his hair. Ford knew everything - he knew everything and he couldn't give less of a fuck. Like he wasn't his brother, once. A brother that apparently talked too much around him but a brother regardless.

Now he wasn't anything to Ford, just a nuiscence on his land-line. Stan could die without a home or a family and Ford wouldn't care. Ford might even appreciate not getting the phone calls.

He thought of the revolver in his glove box with only one bullet. But he couldn't, today, because today's a Wednesday and Ma used to say it was her favorite day of the week because her soap opera that'd been running for as long as he could remember always had new episodes on Wednesdays and Stan and Ford would stay up half an hour past their bedtime to sit and watch the new episode with her. He couldn't ruin Wednesdays.

Could he even ruin Wednesdays? Or would Ma never think about that? Would she be glad, too, to not have the distraction?

He got up, and walked to his car. He couldn't feel his legs, or his hands, but he didn't think the cold had anything to do with it.

He sat down on the driver's side, and looked at his glove box.

Somewhere, on the other side of the country, a man with yellow eyes giggled as he sunk a fork into his hand over and over and over again, watching through the eye of a one-dollar bill as Stanley opened his glove box.

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter One: Blue Hydrangeas- Gratitude

Summary: Your job as a florist has been the highlight of your day for years. It becomes even more exciting when a certain new customer becomes a regular.

Word Count: 2286

Author's Note: Hey guys! My first multi-chapter fic, i'm so excited!!! i don't have a strict posting schedule, but I won't go more than two weeks without an update. please bear with me here because I have no idea what it's like to be a florist. I hope you all enjoy!!

p.s. special shoutout again to @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading, i can't thank you enough!

fic below the cut :)

You were a part of the small minority of people who actually loved their job.

The concept of this was strange to most people — strangers making small talk, men asking introductory questions on dates, even your own parents. Maybe because it wasn’t exactly a career; more so a job that someone has as a way to make rent while getting their degree, which is how you originally began to work at Earth's Laughter Florists. College had been years ago for you now, and yet you stayed behind the counter, making bouquets for customers with a genuine smile on your face. It got to the point that when the old owner decided it was time to retire, she chose you to take over. Of course, you immediately accepted; this job was the best part of your day. While all of your friends were going insane with their office jobs, you… admittedly still went insane from time to time, just in a much prettier workplace.

You had even taken it upon yourself to learn flower language: different types of flowers having different symbolic meanings. It was almost like extra credit. It gave you a new challenge of arranging flowers while keeping both color and symbolism in mind, and helped you create bouquets and arrangements with more meaning. This, in turn, gave your customers a new incentive to buy different flowers for different occasions based on what they meant. More business for you, more smiles on people's faces, and more money in your pocket. Everyone wins.

Another benefit of the job — your favorite part — was that it gave you small glimpses into the lives of other people. Flowers had a multiplicity of sorts. They were so versatile that people bought from you for almost every occasion. Weddings, funerals, birthdays, dance recitals, you name it. It made you more appreciative of others. Every day was a new insight into whatever your customers had going on. And today was no exception.

You arrived an hour before the store opened, as usual. You went into the back and threw on your apron, adjusting your name tag. Thoughts of everything you had to do before opening ran through your head, and you quickly began to busy yourself with everything from giving some flowers new vases of water to following up on an order for a wedding. Your two coworkers came in around a half an hour after your arrival, donning their aprons, saying their hellos, and also beginning their day. When the time finally came, you flipped around the sign hanging from the door, telling everyone outside you were open. You stood behind the counter and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

One of the only downsides of your job was that it required a lot of patience.

It's not like you were just staring at the clock, biding your time until a customer entered. You still had work to get done, mostly tying up loose ends from what you didn't finish before. Your coworkers were occupied with a tall order of arrangements, so they stuck to the back, with the occasional popping in to ask if you needed assistance. Politely, you declined.

Mundane was the word that kept repeating itself in your head as you did your odd jobs around the store. Not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, mundane meant nothing horrible was occurring (even though it meant nothing was occurring). Of course, mundane never does last long.

You had just finished creating an arrangement to put on display when your first customer of the day walked in.

The bell above the door rang, and you quickly walked back over to where you were supposed to be standing, not even bothering to see who had walked in until you were behind the counter.

The first thing you noticed was that he was taller than you had expected, with long brown curls that fell down to his shoulders. His outfit, a black turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, and black jeans, was the right mix of formal and casual; you could tell he had somewhere to be, but with people that wouldn't mind if he laughed a little too loudly.

To top it all off, he was handsome. You couldn't pull your gaze from him if you tried.

He walked forward, slowly looking around at all the flowers on display until his gaze locked onto you. He broke the silence between you.

“Hello. I need some flowers.”

You maintained your composure and brushed off your previous thoughts. You started your usual routine, asking him the same questions to get to know the situation (and him) better.

“What's the occasion?”

“It's my mum’s birthday.”

“Does she have a favorite flower?” You asked. He replied with no hesitation.

“She loves hydrangeas. Blue hydrangeas. She always has.”

His immediate answer brought a small smile to your face. You nodded intently and began to think of all the possible combinations of flowers that would work well.

“You're specific. I like that. That makes my job easier. Usually guys say something like ‘I don't know’ or ‘the purple ones’ or just ‘roses’. It's like some people don't even pay attention.”

“Well, that's all I know how to do.”

“A blessing and a curse, I imagine.”

“More of a blessing, believe it or not.”

“I have a similar blessing, though it seems to be laser-focused on plants of all things.” You joked. “Speaking of plants, let me start on your bouquet.”

You left your spot, walking over to the wall of flowers on display for you to pick from. You stopped and stood next to the man, fixated on the wall as you tried to decide what flowers would go well together, in meaning and in visuals. Mumbling, you thought out loud.

“Alright. For his mother. Blue hydrangeas… that's gratitude. What can go with that?”

The customer tilted his head in confusion, clearly having heard you.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but what's with blue hydrangeas and gratitude?” He asked. Your eyes widened, and you turned to face him as you started your explanation.

“Oh, it's flower language. I learned about it to help me make more symbolic bouquets. Back in the Victorian era, people would use bouquets of flowers to convey messages they couldn't say out loud. Most of the time it was a love confession, though you could also reject someone if you picked your flora wisely. Individual flowers have meanings, too. Blue hydrangeas, your mum's favorite, symbolize gratitude. There was even a change in the meaning based on which side the ribbon was on, or if they were given upside down, and…” You cut yourself off when you realized you’d been talking for much too long, your excited expression dropping. “I’m rambling about something you definitely don't care about. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a confused look, and a small laugh of disbelief escaped him.

“What? Don't apologize. That was fascinating. I don't know if I’ll ever see flowers the same way again. In a good way, of course”

The fact that he was actually invested in what you had to say pleasantly surprised you. People — not just customers, people you actually choose to surround yourself with — would often tune you out after the first two sentences.

You knew this man for two minutes and he was already raising your standards.

“Well then, I’m happy to give you a new perspective. I’ll get started on your arrangement.”

You stepped back to get a better look at the flowers lining the walls of the room. You already had a vague idea of what you wanted, you just needed to put it into action. Hydrangeas were grabbed first, and made the focal point of the bouquet immediately. Other flowers were picked up and put down, a trial-and-error of sorts until you found which ones truly matched.

Occasionally, you looked over your shoulder to find your customer still standing there, spectating you from a few feet away. He watched you with a certain gleam in his eye, one you would attribute to admiration if you didn't know any better.

Once your selections were made, you picked out a plastic sheet and took the flowers into the back, where there was a smaller room with a much larger table surface for a workspace. The wrapping was laid out, and meticulously, flowers were laid down. Rearranged. Shifted around. After a few small touches, everything was in the exact place you wanted it.

You finally finished up, wrapping the flowers in the silver plastic and tying it up with a blue ribbon. You went back behind the counter and held the bundle of flowers up, pointing at each one as you described the meaning of each specifically selected flower.

“There's the blue hydrangeas for gratitude, white roses for loyalty and beauty, and belladonna delphinium for protection and well-being. You're basically showering your mum with compliments with this thing.”

“It's gorgeous,” he replied, the look of astonishment from before lingering on his face.

“As nature tends to be.”

“I mean, you can't argue with that, but the way you’ve arranged them, it's… stunning. She’ll love it.”

His compliment surprised you; it wasn't too often you got such a compliment for a simple bouquet. It caused your heart to flutter in your chest in a way that definitely crossed the border of the employee-customer relationship you had going on. Frightening. Maybe if you kept acting unaffected, it would magically stop.

“Let me ring you up.”

There was no true cash register, and you instead relied on a pen, a yellow legal pad, and mental math for customers’ totals. It took a moment, but you calculated what he owed you.

“That'll be $54.”

He muttered in agreement, and you watched as he reached into his coat pocket. His hand stayed there, fiddling around. After a moment, he reached the opposite hand into the opposite pocket. He felt around for a second, pulling his hands out and placing them on his hips. His content expression was replaced by one that was much more panicked.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“I…I forgot my wallet back at my house. Do you take any online payment?”

You shook your head.

“No, sorry. We're old school. That's alright though, I can put these to the side and you can run home and get your wallet.”

He let out a frustrated sigh in response, angry more at himself than anything else.

“That's the thing. I live thirty minutes from here and I’m meeting my mum in fifteen minutes, and I have specific instructions to be on time. I might just…”

He stopped his sentence, paused, and took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’ll find something else. Thanks for all your help, though. You have a gift.”

You caught the sincerity behind his now bitter tone, and it made your heart ache. He turned to leave and took a few steps forward. You didn't process that you had said anything until his reaction.

“Wait.”

He immediately stopped in his tracks and turned around, and you realized your impulses led you to call out for him even though you had no plan whatsoever.

Biting at your lower lip, you thought of an idea. You genuinely wanted to help this man give his mother flowers… The fact you found him attractive was merely an added bonus. Besides, the pity you felt for him overrode that. Once the metaphorical light bulb lit above your head, you spoke again, leaning in closer and lowering your voice so only he could hear.

“Okay, I’m not supposed to do this, and this definitely isn't a good business practice, but I can tell you're not just doing this to steal flowers from me, so I’ll make an exception.”

He leaned in as well with a look of intrigue. You continued to explain.

“You can take the bouquet for now, and then within… I don't know, two days, you have to pay me back. I’d just need a name and phone number so I can contact you if you don't show up.”

You snatched one of your business cards from the display and flipped it over so the blank side faces upwards, leaving a pen in front of you so he could write. He picked up the ballpoint, seemingly scribbled for a moment, and then slid the card back over to you. Written in surprisingly beautiful handwriting, you read his name aloud.

“Andrew… Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.”

This caught you off guard. For a second you wondered if maybe you did accidentally give a free bouquet to a shady guy.

“Excuse me?”

Andrew’s mouth went agape as he realized the connotation behind what he said, and he quickly muttered an explanation, flustered. “Oh my god! No. Not like that. You… your name tag.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you gave him a nod.

“Right. Forgot that was there for a second. Alright, take your bouquet. Happy birthday to your mother. And remember, two days.”

He gave you a gesture showing his gratitude, pressing his hands together.

“Thank you. So much. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” He said, grabbing the bouquet.

“Hopefully with money in two days,” you joked.

He let out a laugh.

“Money would do the trick. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You watched as he left, the smile of your face growing as you noticed his appreciation of the flowers you had arranged by the doorway. He paused for a moment before opening the door and leaving, and you caught him humming a tune you'd never heard before.

You hoped he would come back much sooner rather than later.